


Second Chances

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Awkward Brunch, Demiromantic!Stiles, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lydis is Stiles' BFF, M/M, Morning After, bottom!Derek, teacher!Derek, therapist!stiles, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia drags Stiles to a brunch with a friend of hers who is her daughter's teacher, and who is there but one Derek Hale, who Stiles left in bed the morning after they had sex. </p><p>This...is going to be awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a post on tumblr. This is the prompt: 
> 
> "does the “i slept with you the other day and i didnt know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward because i ran out when you were asleep” au exist bc i need that fic"

“No, Lyds, I didn’t get his name. We were kinda interested in only one thing, if you know what I mean,” Stiles says, ignoring the roll of Lydia’s eyes as she gets out of the driver’s side of her car. 

“So you just left him? While he was asleep?” Lydia came around to the sidewalk where Stiles waited for her and then she crossed her arms, judgement lining her features.

“Erm,” Stiles mumbles, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his head, wincing as he admitted, “I might have.”

Stiles peaks up and winces again when he sees Lydia’s narrowed eyes. 

“You’re a better person than that, Stiles.”

“Save the lecture, Lyds, please,” Stiles sighs, rubbing his brow in frustration. “Let’s just get this brunch over with.”

Lydia glares at Stiles, but after a long moment she sighs, dropping the subject they’d been arguing over the whole car ride over to the restaurant. 

Stiles knew he shouldn’t have told her, but she was his best friend, and it had been eating at him for the past two days. 

Truth was, Stiles didn’t have a good excuse for slipping out of the bed while his companion of the previous night slept on, a small smile on his face, his chest bare, the sheet barely covering his lower half, and then getting his clothes and leaving the bedroom and not daring to take a look back at him. 

He never had a good excuse. And Lydia always looked at him in disappointment when he told her, and she always told him that he was ‘better’ than that. Stiles would always retort that evidently he wasn’t better than that, and to stop trying to make him feel better, and then she would snap back, “oh that is the last thing I’m doing, Stiles,” and then she would launch into a lecture about how big of an asshole he was and that he was lucky she gave him the time of day, that she cared so much for him. 

Stiles would shoot back that the only reason she cared for him was because she was as much of an asshole as he was, and then she would give him an ice cold stare, pick up a pen - how she always had a pen near her during these arguments, he had no idea - and then snap it in half, and then say in a falsely sweet voice “call me an asshole again, I dare you.”

And then Stiles would cower and apologize and then they’d go back to their best friend banter and it was forgotten. 

Every. Time. 

Or some variation thereof, anyway.

But Stiles really wasn’t in the mood this time. And Lydia seemed to understand that, which was why they were BFFs for life and all that. 

“So who’s this friend of yours we’re meeting?” Stiles asks as they start walking side by side up the sidewalk to the restaurant that resided at the end of the street. 

“Derek Hale, he’s a teacher at Lillian’s school,” Lydia reminds him. 

“So you have a crush on this dude, then?” Stiles asks, looking over at her. Lydia immediately snorts out a laugh, which is so unlike her Stiles stares at her in confusion.

“Oh, Stiles, no, no no,” Lydia laughs again, shaking her head. “Granted, he’s one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen, but that’s just objective, I don’t feel any attraction to him. He’s just a friend,” Lydia says, finishing her explanation with a laugh.

“Okayyy, so why is he having brunch with us?” Stiles asks, suspicious.

“Because he’s my friend?” Lydia says more than asks, even though there’s an inflection in her voice like she’s asking a question, looking over at Stiles with a raised eyebrow. “Having brunch with friends is nice? And gathering in a group is fun?” 

“Is he Lillian’s teacher or just a random teacher that works there?” Stiles asks, referring to Lydia’s seven-year-old daughter. 

“He was her teacher last year, but we still stop to talk and keep up and all that. We’ve hung out a few times,” Lydia explains. 

“So…the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen…teaches first grade?” Stiles asks, raising a skeptical brow. 

“Yep,” Lydia says, laughing softly at Stiles’ expression. “And he’s one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met, too.”

“So this isn’t like some…set up thing, right? Just a friend thing?” Stiles says, always suspicious of Lydia introducing him to a new friend, as she often does. And more often then not, if she invites Stiles along too, it’s to try and set him up with her friend. She always precede’s the meeting with “and don’t just leave them high and dry, okay?”

Of course, most of the time Stiles doesn’t even get that far with them, because most of the time he doesn’t feel anything for Lydia’s “friends” she introduces him to, but sometimes he does, and he ends up leaving them high and dry anyway after a night of fucking, so he doesn’t get why Lydia always warns him not to. He does it anyway.

“Yep, just a friend thing,” Lydia nods, but she averts her gaze from him, and Stiles is looking at her through narrowed eyes as they walk up the steps into the restaurant. 

Once they enter, Lydia says, “Martin, party of three,” to the host, and he nods and gestures for them to follow him. 

Lydia is one of expensive taste, so the restaurant around them has tables with table cloths over them, unlit candles in the middle, and booths line the edges of the restaurant, and the booths are a dark, expensive wood, designs carved into them. Those tables also have table cloths over them. 

The place was fairly busy, so they weaved through tables and tables filled with people laughing over bacon and omelettes. 

Stiles eventually looks forward again at Lydia’s back and the host in front of her, and when the host stops, Stiles moves around Lydia to see where to sit - it’s a booth - and then freezes, eyes going wide, blood draining from his face.

The man standing up from the booth to greet them is Derek Hale. 

And Derek Hale is the man Stiles left in his bed before he woke up. 

Shit.

Derek himself sees Stiles moments after Stiles sees him, and his eyes widen, but other than that he keeps his composure, looking quickly away from Stiles and instead looks at Lydia, who he moves forward to hug in greeting.

Stiles blinks quickly, barely noticing the host setting down their menus and then departing, leaving the three of them alone. Derek peeks at Stiles over Lydia’s shoulder, and Stiles swallows past a lump in his throat.

“Derek, this is Stiles,” Lydia laughs, stepping back from Derek. “Stiles, this is Derek,” Lydia gestures to Derek, and Stiles clears his throat, holding out a hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Mm,” Derek replies, taking his hand, and Stiles tries not to show how affected he is by Derek’s touch. 

Lydia is already sliding into the booth, and Stiles clears his throat again as he and Derek let go of each other’s hands and get into the booth as well - Stiles beside Lydia, Derek across from them. 

Stiles can’t look Derek in the eyes. 

They start out with small talk, Lydia suggesting what she thinks is good where they were eating to Derek, who has never been there before, and Stiles looking determinedly at his menu. 

The waitress comes by to get their drink order then leaves, and Stiles is still looking at his menu, only daring to take quick peeks at Derek. 

“So, Stiles, what do you do?” Derek asks, and Stiles startles, looking up at Derek, eyes wide. 

There’s a moment of silence that stretches too long as Stiles’s mouth hangs open, as Derek’s eyebrow arches as he looks at Stiles, and Lydia looks from Stiles to Derek, then Derek to Stiles and back again. 

Stiles clears his throat for the third time and stutters out, “Um, I-I’m a therapist.”

“Really?” Derek’s eyebrow seems to raise higher. “So you help people become emotionally healthy?”

“Um…yes, basically. I mean…I try,” Stiles says, biting his lip. 

Thing is, Stiles is good with other people’s problems. His own? Not so much. 

“Huh, that’s ironic,” Derek mutters, looking down at his menu. 

Lydia’s stare turns confused, and Stiles’ cheeks heat up in shame. 

“What?” Lydia says.

“Huh?” Derek looks up. “Oh nothing, just…nothing,” Derek shrugs, brows furrowing. 

Lydia said Derek was the sexiest, but also the sweetest man ever, and right now he wasn’t being so sweet, and Stiles knew that it was his own damn fault. 

It wasn’t like Stiles always hated the sex he had with those he had one-night-stands with. In fact, it was usually pretty damn great. And in Derek’s case, it was pretty fucking amazing. But Stiles…didn’t do well with the morning after. 

Stiles usually blamed it on his social ineptness, but really Stiles just didn’t do so great with someone when there wasn’t sex involved. Basically, romance wasn’t Stiles’ thing, and he didn’t really know how to talk to someone he was attracted to without making a fool of himself. 

And Derek? Well. He hadn’t just been a fun time. They’d met at a local gay bar a few nights ago, and then went back to Derek’s place, heat in their eyes, heat simmering below their skin, pulse beating wildly. 

Derek hadn’t been like the rest, man or woman, who was also looking for some great sex and a nice morning after before saying goodbye. 

Derek had held Stiles close, he’d brushed his lips across Stiles’ neck, soft, feather light, making Stiles shiver at the sensation.

He’d whispered how crazy Stiles was making him in his ear, his hands had been gentle but firm on Stiles’ hips. He’d asked if they could fuck face to face, and when Stiles has slid inside him, Derek had made a soft sound of pleasure, his arms curling around Stiles’ waist, holding him close. 

He’d looked into Stiles’ eyes and smiled a kind, soft smile. 

He’d made high, keening noises the closer he got to release. His grip had only gotten marginally tighter around Stiles, his kisses became only marginally harder, but still more passionate than if he had given Stiles a bruising kiss, as Stiles was used to - and usually liked. 

He’d even moved his hands to Stiles’ ass at one point and pulled Stiles inside him deeper, and Stiles had gasped, arms trembling as he hovered over Derek. 

Derek had come first, and his back had arched off the bed so hard Stiles heard a bone crack, and his face had been lax in ecstasy, and he’d clenched so hard around Stiles that Stiles had followed him only a few thrust later, feeling like the world dropped out beneath him, spinning on its axis, tilting everything sideways, making Stiles dizzy, shaking, and affected more than he had wanted to be. 

Afterward Derek had ran his fingers down Stiles’ sweaty, heaving chest and made him shiver all over again, and his smile had been so soft, so pleased that Stiles wanted to drown in it. 

Then Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ sweaty, messy hair softly and kissed him firmly before sighing, pulling back and then resting his head on Stiles shoulders, wrapping himself around Stiles and making Stiles more comfortable in someone else’s bed then he had ever been, or ever wanted to be. 

Derek had fallen asleep eventually, and at one point he rolled away from a wide awake Stiles onto his back, that smile in place, and then Stiles had taken his leave, that feeling of fear resting deep in his stomach. 

And usually it was just an uncomfortable itch for Stiles, telling him that he really didn’t want to talk and try to the whole romance thing, but with Derek it had been a big tidal wave of fear, made his stomach feel cramped and jittery, and Stiles had been breathing faster than he would have liked to be. 

That wasn’t supposed to happen to Stiles.

He wasn’t supposed to affected by someone that much. Not sexually or romantically or fucking ever, really.

And of course the one person that had caused an internal war or wanting to leave and not wanting to leave - when it was usually just him wanting to leave, no question - was Lydia’s “friend” that she introduced him to. Of course. 

“So…uh, Lydia tells me you’re a teacher?” Stiles tries to make conversation, still not able to look Derek directly in the eyes.

Derek looks up at Stiles and nods. “Yeah, I teach first grade at Lillian’s school.”

“Oh cool,” Stiles says, nodding, and then the table falls into silence and Stiles curses his poor social skills. This is why he didn’t do relationships. Because he sucked at them.

“So, uh, Derek, did you know that Stiles is a big history buff too?” Lydia cuts in, still looking slightly confused but trying to make things less awkward anyway. 

“Oh?” Derek says.

“Yeah, he goes nuts for the fall of the Roman Empire, Charlemagne, the Tudors, all that,” Lydia says, nodding.

Derek looks over at Stiles and Stiles smiles weekly. Derek doesn’t smile back.

“So what do you think of the Crusades?” Derek asks mildly, and this, Stiles could do.

~*~

Stiles and Derek end up talking history, Lydia also jumping in at points so that at one point the waitress walked up to them all arguing over who was worse in history, America or England. 

But eventually that conversation ended, and as Derek and Lydia started another conversation, Stiles fell quiet, biting his lip as he peaked up from his meal every ten seconds to look at Derek, who was never looking back at Stiles. 

At one point, Derek excused himself to the bathroom, and Stiles immediately turned to Lydia.

“This was a set up brunch, wasn’t it,” Stiles says, and Lydia doesn’t bother denying it.

“Yep,” Lydia says, and then she turns to Stiles. “And you know Derek already, don’t you?” 

Stiles’ jaw dropped, “wha-n-no, I don’t, why would-I so don’t know him, I’ve never-” Stiles gives up when he sees the look on Lydia’s face and sighs. “Yeah, I do.”

“He was your most recent conquest, wasn’t he?”

“He’s not a conquest-”

“Since when?” Lydia scoffs, and Stiles winces.

“He’s just…not,” Stiles shifts in his seat, looking to see if Derek was coming back or not. He wasn’t. 

“He was more than just a fuck, wasn’t he?”

Stiles groans.

“You always have to be so perceptive?” Stiles mutters.

Lydia smirks, then smiles wide. “What are you waiting for, Stiles? Ask him out on a date!”

“Haha, nope,” Stiles shook his head.

“Stiles,” Lydia huffed. “You like him. So what’s the problem?”

“Pretty sure he wants nothing to do with me now,” Stiles says. “I left him without a word after we had some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow.

“Why did you leave, Stiles?”

Stiles sighs, looks at Lydia. “You know why.”

“Do you?” Lydia tilts her head, and Stiles squirms in his seat. “I bet whatever reason you came up with was utter bullshit.”

“It wasn’t,” Stiles says. “I was a coward, plain and simple. I’m not denying that.”

“Good,” Lydia nods. “So apologize when we’re leaving, grovel if you have to, get his number, and go on a real date with him.”

“It’s not that simple, Lyds-”

“Oh, it is,” Lydia says. “You’re an idiot, he’s amazing and perfect for you, by the way, and he’s not going to leave you just because you say stupid things sometimes or make things awkward occasionally. Derek’s not like that, Stiles.”

“I know that, in here,” Stiles points at his head. “But-”

“You don’t really believe it,” Lydia sighs.

Stiles shrugs, and then straightens when he sees Derek coming back.

“Tell him this,” Lydia hisses quietly as she notices Derek coming back as well. “He’ll understand.”

“Lyd-”

“Do it.” And then Lydia pinches him on the arm and Stiles yelps, glaring at Lydia. “Do it,” Lydia stresses again and Stiles hisses back, “all right!” to prevent her from pinching him again.

Derek sits back down, and it’s awkward again as they finish up their brunch, but Lydia saves it, as she always does.

~*~

Stiles stops Derek once they’re outside on the sidewalk, and Lydia nods at Stiles as she walks on ahead of them toward her car. 

“So look, Derek-” Stiles starts, but Derek interrupts him.

“Stiles, you don’t need to do this,” Derek sighs. “The whole ‘it was a nice fuck, but I’m not looking for anything else’ crap-”

“No, no, look,” Stiles grabs Derek arm when he turns to leave, and Derek looks down at where Stiles is touching him as he turns back, and then up at Stiles. Stiles clears his throat and lifts his hand off of him. “Sorry. Look, I need to-to explain-”

“You really don’t need to-”

“Dude, just shut up and let me explain,” Stiles says, and Derek stops, raises a shocked eyebrow. “Sorry, again, but I really need to say this.”

Derek looks skeptical, but turns to Stiles and waits, eyes somewhat hopeful, somewhat guarded.

“I’m not…good, with relationships,” and when Derek opens his mouth, Stiles holds him hand. “I don’t just mean that I don’t want a relationship. I mean that I really, honestly suck at them. I have horrible social skills, I say stupid shit all the time, I’m an asshole, I make stupid jokes, I say things before I think, and I just suck at the talking normally thing, man. I’m better at talking with someone about their problems and helping them get better. I can do that in my sleep, but casual conversation, it makes me uncomfortable, so I leave before I have to make stupid conversation-”

Derek, who looked understanding the more Stiles talked, raises an eyebrow at the last bit, and Stiles quickly corrects himself.

“-I mean, It’s not stupid, at all, but it just…it sucks, for me. I didn’t want to leave you that morning, but I was scared, Derek. I liked our night together…a little too much,” Stiles says, looks downward as he finishes his speech.

Then Derek’s right there, lifting Stiles’s face with a finger under his chin, and his eyes are soft, and that smile is back on his face.

“That’s okay, Stiles. We can go slow, if you want, work toward being comfortable with each other like that.”

“Do you mean…go slow…romantically?” Stiles asks, and Derek’s smile widens.

“Yeah. We can wait to have a date, if you want.”

“What, and just fuck each other in the meantime?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow.

Derek laughs, but nods. “If that’s what you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Stiles smirks, and Derek winks, smile big and wide, and Stiles falls a little bit in love right then, he thinks. Maybe. Possibly. “Okay,” Stiles breathes, nodding.

When Derek gives Stiles a soft, dragging, passionate kiss, Stiles practically melts into Derek, knees weak. 

And all Stiles can think when they break apart is, thank god for his best friend trying to set him up all the time, or he probably would have never saw Derek again, and that would have majorly sucked. 

Derek pulls back eventually and takes Stiles’ hand, and the warm, tingling feeling that creates make Stiles’ heart beat faster.

Maybe Stiles wasn’t so bad at the whole romantic thing as he had thought.


End file.
